


Jenny's Story

by fleurlb



Category: Church Bells - Carrie Underwood (Song)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/pseuds/fleurlb
Summary: "She had the looks, he had the mansionAnd you can figure out the rest"





	Jenny's Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [360Killer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/360Killer/gifts).



> Follows the song closely, so domestic violence trigger warnings apply.

Her mama guessed at what would happen, but Jenny wouldn't listen. She'd always been twice as stubborn and half as worried as she should have been. 

From the first night that Jenny had proudly introduced Ken to her family, at the fanciest restaurand in Midland that cost more than her parents made in a week, her Mama had known. And she didn't mince words about it either. 

“Well?” Jenny asked shyly in the restaurant's restroom after the second course.

“Well what?” asked her mother as she washed her hands.

“What do you think of him?”

Her mother sighed and dried her hands on the fresh linen towel that the attendant handed her. 

“Jenny, I think when a man that rich comes sniffing around our part of town, he's either looking for a maid or a punching bag.”

“Mama! Ken isn't like that. He's generous. And kind.” Jenny pulled back her sleeve to show the glittering tennis bracelet that Ken had given her for their six-week anniversary. She didn't exactly know why you'd need a fancy bracelet to play tennis, but she loved the way it felt and made her feel. 

Her mother sniffed as she inspected her reflection in the mirror. She tucked a few loose strands of hair into her tight bun, a relic of the times when nurses used to wear those funny hats. Her mom was a creature of habit and still wore her hair the way she'd learned to do it when she was in nursing school. Her mother straightened her best Sunday dress and turned back to Jenny, resigned.

“I hope you know what you're doing, Jenny-girl.” 

“I do, Mama. I do indeed.” Jenny wasn't embarrassed by where she came from, but she'd hoped for more than back-breaking double-shifts as a nurse's aid at the nursing home and a husband who was the janitor on the graveyard shift at the fertilizer factory, both busting their asses but only having enough money to provide a basic roof and food for their brood of six. And any nest egg always seemed to get wiped out by the next disaster. The flood that ruined the ancient minivan. The broken leg that required surgery that had a $5,000 deductible. The tornado that sent a tree spinning right into the kitchen. 

Jenny didn't think she wanted much – just a nice house and an easy life for her kids, maybe the occasional vacation or dinner out. She certainly hadn't expected to meet an oil man who already owned a mansion and a sports car at age 27. 

She allowed the attendant to pull open the restroom door, and then she followed her mother out the door, some of the spring gone from her step. When they got back to the table, Ken stood up and pulled out her chair, then dropped to one knee and pulled out a small black box that had the biggest diamond she'd ever seen in it.

“I asked your father's permission just now, and well, he agreed, so now all that's left to make me the happiest man in the world is for you to say 'yes'.” He looked up at her, and any doubt Jenny might have had flew right out of her head. She felt tears well in her eyes and found that she could only nod. Then she looked over at her mother, whose smile was tight and hard and didn't go as far as her eyes. But Jenny thought she would show her mama how wrong she was.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The wedding was beautiful, an affair lush enough to end up on the Society pages of the Dallas newspaper. And the honeymoon was everything that Jenny dreamt of and more. Three weeks of private jets and island hopping from resort to resort in the Caribbean. Jenny couldn't believe that life could be so easy and relaxed.

She settled into her role as the wife of an oil executive. She hosted dinner parties. Attended charity balls. Went to Junior League meetings and looked for the right kind of volunteer opportunities in the community. She quickly learned what was expected of her, which is probably why the trouble hadn't started sooner.

She always thought of it that way in her head: the trouble. Like it was just some vague and random thing that happened. But it wasn't either of those things. Her mama had seen some of the signs and Jenny knew in hindsight that the rest had been there all along, plain as a tick on a white cat. How fast Ken was to give her expensive gifts and propose before they really knew each other. How he was fond of whiskey and had an unsettling tendency to never call when he was away on a business trip. How he tended to blame other people for his mistakes and shortcoming. 

The first time he hit her was seared on her memory. It was three months after their wedding. He'd been out late, and she'd ended up falling asleep on the couch waiting for him. When he came in, she hadn't woken up fast enough, so he'd slapped her. She'd waken up plenty fast then and had asked him angrily what he thought he was doing. His eyes had flashed and he'd said “Teaching my stupid wife an important lesson.” Then the blows had rained down, fast and hard closed fists until she thought she might pass out. 

The next day, she let him see his handiwork, let him stew in the guilt of it. He brought her some roses and a new ruby ring and promised it would never happen again. She believed him that time. And she even believed him the next time. But by the third time, she was feeling pretty stupid. And by the fourth time, he stopped apologizing at all. 

She covered the bruises the best she could and got on with her life. She thought, sometimes, about visiting her mama, but the shame of being wrong kept her away. 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Life went on for five long years. The vacations and dinners out didn't make up for how worthless Jenny felt. Some nights, Jenny started to think that her parents' life didn't seem that bad. Sure, they worked hard and could never catch a break, but at least they had love and each other. 

Four months after their fifth wedding anniversary. Jenny realized that her period was late. A couple of weeks late. The very thought of it made her nauseous, which made her terrified. So she did what she had gotten very good at doing: she ignored the problem and pretended that everything was fine. 

Which got her through a couple more weeks, but then she couldn't ignore the perpetual exhaustion and regular vomiting that could only mean one thing. Six tests from the drugstore confirmed both her dearest dream and her worst fear: she was pregnant.

Jenny knew two things with absolutely certainty. Number one: she could not bring a child into this trainwreck of a marriage. No child of hers was going to live in fear of a drunked daddy. Number two: If she left Ken, he would kill her, as he had promised her time and again. And had come close to doing by accident on more than one occasion.

Jenny took another week to consider all of her options. Then she spent an evening making Ken's favorite meal. She mixed a mean Lynchburg lemonade and hoped that the sour mix covered up the bitterness of the crushed up Xanax. She told Ken her good news, and dutifully declined a glass to toast the new life inside her. She happily poured her husband another, then another, then another. 

The next morning, Jenny woke up early and was surprised to find Ken's side of the bed empty. She felt a thrumming drumbeat of fear in her chest as she walked downstairs, but it was clear that he hadn't been in the kitchen and his car was still in the garage. 

She found him in his study, facedown on the leather couch, his arm cold to the touch. She dialed 911, the note of panic in her voice authentic because she wasn't sure whether she had succeeded.  
When the paramedics confirmed it, her tears and the sway of her body as knees buckled were also persuasive.

If anyone suspected, no one was going to have the bad manners to upset the pregnant widow. Jenny sat in the front row of the funeral, the church filling in behind her with colleagues and neighbors and acquaintances. She listened to the church bells ringing and felt like she could breath freely for the first time in a long time.


End file.
